


His Everything

by theSapphireSky



Series: The Detective and the Pathologist [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Mind Palace Molly, Post The Abominable Bride, Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:02:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6183460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theSapphireSky/pseuds/theSapphireSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was his conscience, his saving grace...</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Sherlolly Week 2016 Day 1  
> Canon Compliant: Queen of the Mind Palace

He’d been avoiding this section of his Mind Palace ever since the Magnussen incident. It had been a moment of weakness between leaving the plane and getting in the car, a temptation to go through the broken barriers caused by the mixture of drugs flooding his body that he couldn’t resist.

John and Mary had climbed in behind him and as soon as the door slammed shut, Sherlock was dragged back into his Mind Palace by the one person he’d been avoiding.

‘You’re high.’ 

Sherlock opened his eyes at the biting disappointed voice and found himself in the courtroom. Turning around, he looked up at where the Head Justice would reign. But instead of a judge, there stood the one person he’d been avoiding in real life, as well as in his mind. The one person whose good favor he sought above everyone else’s, who ruled his conscience like she was the Queen of his Mind Palace.

Staring down at him with deep disappointment etched into the lines of her face, Molly leaned against the ledge and her voice was taught with rage as she bit out, ‘How could you?’

Unable to bear the weight of her gaze, Sherlock ducked his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. His heart fell heavy with guilt knowing he’d broken her trust once more.

Suddenly, she was there in front of him, reaching out and turning his head toward her. He hesitantly raised his eyes. Her own brown orbs shimmered with tears of anger and disappointment. 

‘How could you?’ She whispered raggedly. 

‘I couldn’t face it,’ he admitted reluctantly. She tilted her head in question. ‘I’ve made death my life, solving it, dissecting it, flirting with it...’ 

Her eyes softened in understanding and she brushed the curls from his forehead, her fingers lovingly tracing the lines of his face. 

‘But to knowingly face my own death?’ He gulped and his hands shook, tears burning his eyes. ‘Alone, without John, without you... I was petrified. I thought the solution I took would make it easier; I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’

‘Oh, Sherlock.’ Her voice broke and she wrapped her arms around his shaky frame, letting him bury his face in the curve of her neck. His own arms locked around her and he kept mumbling apologies as she ran her hand soothingly across his back.

The moment was brief and Sherlock felt himself being pulled out of his thoughts by an external force. Molly’s presence faded away as the car pulled to a stop outside Baker Street. Sherlock’s eyes flew open and he leapt from the car, taking the stairs up to his flat two at a time. 

There, wearing a hole in his floor and biting her thumbnail, was Molly. Safe, whole, and worried. She looked up at his entrance and whatever she was about to say was stifled as he crossed the room and swept her into his arms. 

She stiffened momentarily. 

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he mumbled, refusing to let go when she tried to move back. Slowly, she relaxed and slipped her arms around his neck.

When he finally loosened his hold enough for her to pull back, she brushed the unruly curls from his forehead. His breath hitched at the action. ‘Sherlock, what’s going on? Is... is he really back?’

‘I don’t know yet,’ he admitted. 

John and Mary entered, followed by Mycroft, all of them stopping in surprise at the sight of their friends in a semi-intimate embrace.

Sherlock ignored them all, focusing on Molly. He cupped her cheek and brushed away a stray tear. 

She finally looked at his face, taking in the pale skin, red eyes, dilated pupils. Her worry faded and an angry flush filled her cheeks. She pushed on his chest, but his arms were an iron band around her waist. ‘You’re high.’

‘Not the priority right now, I’m afraid,’ Mycroft interrupted, stepping forward as John and Mary settled on the couch.

Molly glared at the elder Holmes then back at Sherlock. ‘Sherlock, what’s going on? Why...?’ She trailed off helplessly, angry and confused. _Why are you high? Why haven’t I seen you in months?_ Each unspoken question in her eyes was like a punch to his gut.

‘I’ll explain everything, I promise,’ he whispered. ‘But right now, I need to keep you safe.’

‘Do you think he will come after me?’ She looked up at him in fear.

‘If he does, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe,’ he promised. 

Frozen by the sudden intensity in his gaze, Molly’s hands clenched the fabric of his Belstaff. ‘B-but I’m nothing, I’m not important.’

Sherlock leaned down, brushing his lips against hers with a tenderness that surprised even himself. Pulling back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, he held her close.

‘No, Molly,’ he whispered. ‘You are my everything.’


End file.
